


Reverence

by reassembleme



Series: All The Small Things [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, M/M, Modern Era, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, the boys hook up after meeting in a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reassembleme/pseuds/reassembleme
Summary: Keith, poised over the pool table, simply glances up, a smirk playing on his lips. Slowly, he drags his eyes from Lance’s mouth to his eyes before bringing them back down.Well, shit.





	Reverence

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so so soso much to my friends who took the time to help me edit this, you're gems and I adore you!!!  
> i hope you enjoy!

_If you were church, I'd get on my knees_

_Confess my love, I'd know where to be_

_“Church” - Fall Out Boy_

* * *

 

    It was his eyes that caught Lance’s attention. They glow bright violet in the dim haze of the club. They laze across his body as he moves through the floor, flitting away every time they meet Lance’s. All night, though, they watch. It’s warm here, the room thrumming with people, yet Lance still feels a chill across his skin. He’s fast and loose, the first few buttons of his floral shirt are undone and the shirt moves with him as he makes his way across the floor. He’s here with Hunk, something about Lance needing to forget about Nyma. He hadn’t expected anything from tonight, some drinking and dancing sure, and yet. Again, those eyes. He doesn’t have to look to know they’re on him. He looks over at Hunk for confirmation, and he receives an encouraging smile, head motioning for Lance to get over to the bar. His head’s down, buried in a phone as he clutches his beer. Lance steels himself, makes his way over. He’s texting something furiously, tension clear in the line of his spine. It’s not until he slides into the seat next to him that he notices Lance. He’s startled, but not closed off. Lance smiles, leans in; his heart in his throat.

    “Hi, can I buy you a drink?” He says, quietly and for the stranger’s ears only. He’s hesitant, hand frozen above his phone on the bar. But then he breathes, blinks, nodding as he turns to Lance. Lance’s heart doesn’t still but he feels the tension ease from his shoulders. They’re both smiling when Lance calls the bartender over.

     A beer in and his name’s Keith, and he’s only here because his roommate thinks he needs to go out more. Lance forgives the horrible name for the nervous smile the admission reveals. He laughs, tells him a friend dragged him out tonight, too. Another beer, and he finds out he has horrible taste in music, but that’s alright because his eyes shine when he talks about his favorite band. He fiddles with the worn hair tie on his wrist as he talks, eyes not daring to linger on it or Lance’s eyes for too long, but at least the phone’s been put away. Lance isn’t sure when the competition starts, honestly, but now they’re pounding back shots like tomorrow won’t come. Lance’s words are slow but firm when he announces that they should take this over to the pool table. Keith stands, slams a hand down on the bar, and Lance gets chills when he says, “ _You’re on.”_ Lance soon finds his brows furrow when he’s determined, and that won’t do, that’s distracting. He stands closer than he needs to, but so does Keith. They pass each other as they circle the table, arms just barely brushing, searching for an in. They’re neck and neck, each managing to sink a ball when the other does. Keith eventually puts his hair up, and he seems to calculate each hit before he makes it. _Stupid, good, pretty Keith._ Lance is leaning against his cue stick, feigning indifference, when Keith lines up his final shot.

    “Okay _Mullet_ , you’ve been pretty lucky so far, try not to screw this one up.”

    “Lance, shh, I’m about to _win_ here,” he says, smug.

    “Yeah? And what’ll your prize be?” He says. Keith, poised over the pool table, simply glances up, a smirk playing on his lips. Slowly, he drags his eyes from Lance’s mouth to his eyes before bringing them back down. _Well, shit_. Lance’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way Keith watches him do it. He takes a deep breath and hits the ball. Of course it goes in. Keith shoots up, triumphant, and Lance’s heart jumps. He swallows and steps forward, willing his nerves to settle.

    “Lucky shot.”

    “The last one or the entire game? I warned you!” He says, grinning. His chin’s raised and he meets Lance’s gaze with ease, taking note of the heat there. Lance rolls his eyes, leaning towards him. There’s something in the air between them, something he could nearly touch. All he has to do is reach out and take it - if he wants.

    “So how about that prize, Keith?” He says, holding his breath.

 

* * *

 

    They’re stumbling against the building, Keith falling into Lance’s chest. He exhales, glancing up at him with an amused smile. The summer breeze is more than welcome against their flushed faces. Lance feels like he’s on fire, holding him in his arms like this. In the dim streetlight, this close, Lance can see the light dusting of freckles across Keith’s nose. His heart pounds as he looks over Keith’s face. His eyes land on his lips, unsure, but Keith is already surging forward. His lips meet Keith’s and he’s dizzy with it. They’re a little chapped, and his breath stinks of alcohol, but it’s still so, so good. He can barely breathe, but he doesn’t want to stop. He meets every move, drunk with it. _How is he so hot?_

    “My place is nearby, would you wanna come up?” He says against Keith’s lips, and he nods in response. Lance lowers his grasp, grabs Keith’s hand instead, and they hurry off to Lance’s apartment building. Lance fumbles with the lock, and the elevator takes far too long, but they manage to finally make it back to Lance’s tiny apartment. Before they know it, they’re in Lance’s room. Keith kisses him again, gentler this time, as he walks Lance backwards towards and onto the bed. He falls to his knees, gazing intently up at him.

    Keith has trouble with Lance’s belt. They both laugh a little nervously, but that doesn’t deter him. Quickly, he slips it off, pulling his pants down. His fingers trail up Lance’s bare legs, leaving chills in their wake. Anticipation blooms in his chest, and Lance keeps his eyes on Keith. On his knees on the floor before him, he moves with a purposeful energy, electrifying the small space between them. He fingers the waistband of Lance’s boxer briefs, hesitant.

    “Is this okay?” He says, quiet and breathless. Lance pulls him up, crushing his lips against Keith's. Startled, he meets Lance eagerly all the same. He mumbles a yes against Keith’s lips, but they don’t stop. He can’t seem to get enough of him, especially as Keith pushes forward. The wanting fills him, threatens to overtake him. This stranger, warm and welcoming and wonderful, thrills him. Lance lays back against the bed, grinds up against Keith, searching for the friction he provides. Keith is hard beneath his jeans, and Lance’s head swims. Lance flushes as he moans despite himself, but it seems to drive Keith on. He lifts himself off of Lance enough to pull off his jeans, then his shirt, and he’s on him again. Keith slips a hand between them, palms Lance through his briefs. Lance arches up against him, and Keith methodically kisses his way down his neck, across his chest, lingers at his hips. Fast, things are moving so fast, and Lance could get lost in it.

     Keith finally removes the last of Lance’s clothes, slowly runs his hands back up Lance’s legs, towards the soft expanse of his thighs. Lance lifts himself onto his elbows, breaths heavy as he watches Keith. He’s sure he’s going to lose it when Keith, catching Lance’s gaze, kisses his knee. His lips trail up and along his thigh, before he finally wraps his hand around Lance’s cock. Keith’s eyes close as he wraps his mouth around the head of him, and Lance gasps, hands fisting into the bedsheets.

    “ _Fuck_ ,” he says, helpless as Keith’s warm mouth works him. He brings a hand up to his own mouth, biting down when Keith pops off of him to drag the flat of his tongue along the underside of his cock. Lance’s hips buck, and he hears Keith choke against the movement. Alarmed, he begins to rise, but surprisingly strong hands steady him, smoothing over his thighs in reassurance. Lance slides his hand down to run it through Keith’s hair, so soft in his grip. He pulls, just slightly, and Keith moans around his cock. He pulls again, harder this time, and one of Keith’s hands reaches down to wrap around his own length. Lance falls against the bed, back arching as he runs his hands across his face and through his hair. His breathing’s picked up, tension building in his gut, and he knows he isn't going to last much longer. Keith’s rhythm breaks, sporadic in the midst of the noises he makes. Warmth rushes across Lance’s skin, thrilled at Keith’s enthusiasm.

    “ _Keith_ , I’m-,” he says, and Keith looks up, nods. He doesn’t relent. His pace remains until Lance comes in his mouth, shuddering as he rides out his orgasm. Lance lays there for a few moments, chest heaving, as the aftershocks roll through him. He drops his gaze to Keith, smiling on the floor and sheepishly wiping his mouth. Lance gives him a lopsided smile in return. Keith squirms slightly, and Lance’s eyes widen. _Oh._

     “Come here,” he says, pulling Keith up onto the bed. He kisses him, tastes his own salt on his tongue, hands in his hair. He tugs softly on what he grabs, and he’s rewarded with a moan. He pulls away slightly, breath shaky.

     “I’m clo-,” he says, words dying on his lips when Lance’s hand falls on his cock. He pumps his hand, lips finding Keith’s again. His eyes are hazy, half-focused on Lance. Keith reaches for him, pulling him as close as possible, running fingers across his scalp. He comes with a groan, dragging his nails from Lance’s scalp down to his shoulders. He falls forward, head on Lance’s shoulder as he catches his breath. Lance leans over to the nightstand, grabs a box of tissues, and sets to cleaning them both up. It’s late now, and the evening begins to weigh down on Lance. He finds himself sinking into the comfort of his bed, encouraging Keith to follow him. He does, and Lance lays his head on his shoulder. The last thing he hears before sleep takes him is the steady in and out of Keith’s breathing.

    Fatigue seeps into his bones as he wakes up, sunlight streaking across his eyes. He stretches, a full body thing that has him reaching from the pads of his fingers to the tips of his toes. He rolls over, face buried into the still warm pillow beside him, and it hits him. He shoots up in bed, looking around. Disappointment rises in him, unbidden, and he hadn’t realized he’d been hoping at all. He sighs, falling back against the bed and rubbing his face. He turns, eyes landing on his night table, and the scrap of paper that lies on it. He picks it up, a smile forming on his lips, reaching his eyes.

    _Last night was fun, sorry I couldn’t stay._

_Let me make it up to you, call me?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!  
> You can find me at my [tumblr](http://kvgvne.tumblr.com). :)


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